Sheep's Momentum
by TheMagnificentMudrock
Summary: The more he knows he can't have her, the more he wants her…even if that means saving her dog of a fiancé to get closer to her. Eric/Sookie, Eric/Sookie/Godric, Godric/OC. Right after Season 2 Finale, slight AU. M for later
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing that you recognize. True Blood doesn't belong to me no matter how bad I want it to.

Hello thar, this story is rated M for later. There are the pairings of Bill/Sookie (sortakinda), Eric/Sookie, Eric/Sookie/Godric, Godric/Sookie, and Godric/OC. Spread the love. Also, warning: this story contains too many werewolves to be considered healthy. I plan to update weekly, and if I'm very lucky, maybe every three days or so. Remember folks, reviews are love! Thanks for reading!

Chapter One

Sookie Stackhouse liked to think of herself as an emancipated thinker. She maintained relationships with those of the vampire persuasion, worked for a shapeshifter, banished a Maenad, and had a little talent which involved reading minds. Sookie, however, could not understand why her brother kept his house a pigsty. Beer cans were thrown about, dirty clothes lined the floors, and she swore there was a bra underneath a pile of Jason's sweaty gym shirts. With a huff, Sookie observed that it wasn't a "good girl" bra either. The offending piece of lingerie was a sickening shade of neon pink with a scalloped lace trim. _What would Gran think?_

She flipped through all the basic cable had to offer, finally coming to a stop on an old werewolf flick. It seemed entertaining enough, if only just for laughs. Sookie adjusted her position on Jason's old couch so that her feet were resting on the coffee table. Judging by the layers of drink rings, her brother would hardly mind feet on the furniture. Rolling her eyes, partly at Jason's sloppiness and partly at the special effects of the 1930's, Sookie gathered her hair into a ponytail. _Heck_, was she tired. The whole "fiancé-being-violently-kidnapped" thing was starting to take a physical toll. Groaning angrily, Sookie placed her palms over her eyes. Before the situation could escalate into full-on misery, an ear splitting howl reverberated through the room.

_Damn Jason and his surround sound._

Sookie hugged her knees to her chest and turned her attention to the movie. Anything was better than thinking about Bill. She cringed. Apparently silver was damaging to werewolves as well as vampires. The werewolf on the screen was being dragged through the forest, a silver net over its head. _Oh, the irony_, Sookie thought bitterly. The poor werewolf didn't have a soul to rescue it. Neither did she when Bill was taken. The telepath was forced to phone the new waitress at Merlotte's so she could get a ride home to Jason's. On the television, dawn rose over the trees and illuminated a platform. Images of the Fellowship filtered through Sookie's mind. On top of the platform were the makings of a bonfire, more specifically a human bonfire.

If Steve Newlin had his way, a bonfire like that would've been the way Godric met his end. As Sookie discovered later, Godric was quite persistent to meet his end. If she didn't go up to the roof that morning, Eric's maker may have ended the job Newlin started. Good thing she had the presence of mind to lie through her teeth about vampire-human politics. She told Godric that his wisdom and aversion to bloodshed could save many lives, both human and vampire. Frankly, the Fellowship would _never_ listen what they deemed "subhuman". Sookie tilted her head in thought. Godric did clear out Newlin's church pretty quickly. _Maybe he could 'fix everything'._The telepath was not in the mood for philosophizing. What she was in the mood for consisted of crappy horror movies and popcorn. Sookie rose from the couch, tearing her eyes from the werewolf being tied to a stake.

Jason better keep their parents' house well-stocked.

Tiptoeing to the kitchen, another shrill howl reached Sookie's ears. She would definitely mute her brother's T.V. when she sat back down. Another thing she would do would be calling Eric. _You stupid pig_, Sookie thought_, why can't you do something useful and help me find Bill?_

"Sook?"

The title's namesake turned to the familiar voice. "Hey, Jason. Where've you been all night?"

He grinned from ear to ear, a smugness filling his eyes.

"On second thought, don't answer that. Want some popcorn?" Sookie rifled through the cabinet until she found a bag of Orville Redenbacher's. She squinted at the package instructions before setting it in the microwave.

"I'm kinda tired, Sook. I might just hit they hay." Jason kissed the younger Stackhouse on the forehead. "G'night Sook," he said, walking out of the kitchen.

"Good night," his sister called after him. She glanced at the timer on the microwave, disappointed at her lack of company. Sookie glanced at the movie. The werewolf had been abandoned after the burning. When the timer sounded, she removed her snack from the microwave and sat down in an armchair. The wolfman wasn't dead. Sookie tossed some popcorn in her mouth and blinked at the screen. A puff of air escaped the werewolf's nostrils. Simultaneously, she felt a breath on the back of her neck. "That's not funny, Jason."

At the lack of response, Sookie turned around. It wasn't Jason.

"You called?"

She twisted her neck, already knowing the identity of her visitor. "Eric! How'd you get in?"

"If my recollection is correct, you invited me last night while you were _quite_intoxicated." The Viking leaned forward, over Sookie's chair. He placed his arms on the armrests, covering Sookie's hands with his.

With butterflies jumping in her stomach, she ignored him as best she could. "I hope you came here to tell me you've found Bill."

"Why do you insist on mentioning him upon every visit," Eric hissed. "You could have so much better." He kneeled behind the chair, greatly shortening the distance between them. When he spoke next, his lips brushed Sookie's ear. "Why do you love Bill when you could have someone so much better?"

"Eric," Sookie said, tone icy.

"Don't 'Eric' me. We both know how much you want this."

She hastily rose from the chair, pushing Eric off of her arms. "You tricked me and betrayed me. That's the _only reason_why I'm attracted to you." She exasperatedly placed her hands on top of her head. "If you can even call it attraction. I don't want 'this', whatever the heck it is, and I definitely do not want _you_, Eric Northman." Sookie scowled at the vampire. "All I want is to get Bill back. So if you could kindly tell me what the fuck has happened to him, maybe we could be friends."

"Forget about Bill."

"I love him. That's more than I can say about you."

Eric crossed his arms over his chest. "He was taken by werewolves and was probably were-dinner. Compton is as good as dead," he told her slowly.

"Don't you dare say such a thing!"

"You could be next, Sookie!"

"You would never let that happen."

In a flash, Eric was standing a few inches from her. Sookie was at eyelevel with his chest. "Yes, _Miss Stackhouse_, I would never allow that to happen if you would only let me protect you. If you didn't fight me every step of the way we could have a rather," he bent his neck to better look at her, "_amiable_ friendship."

Her brain turned to mush and Sookie was forced to hold on to the back of the armchair for support. Eric's cold body gave off waves of heat and growing lust. Sookie gasped as his hand came into contact with her waist. "Eric…Eric I-"

"Shhh, Sookie." He lowered his head into the space between her neck and shoulder, taking in her scent. His solid form pushed her back against the chair. Eric lifted his head and brought his eyes up to Sookie's. As his green eyes met hers, she found the smoldering intensity she saw in her dreams as well as something that made her insides twist: insecurity. Eric's gaze flickered to her lips before he met her eyes for reassurance. Sookie didn't protest as he moved forward, lips brushing her cheek and slowly moving downward. She felt her heart beat faster and her body grow hotter. Her hand snaked to the collar of Eric's black leather jacket and she rubbed her thumb over his jugular.

His lips parted from her skin as he leaned into her touch. The conscious part of his brain wondered how she could make him so crazy by touching him once. Sookie's hand travelled to the small of his back and pulled him towards her as she spread her legs. Eric brought his lips to hers. She shuddered. Sookie deepened the kiss.

And realized what she was doing.

Eric felt it. Pulling back, he asked her what was wrong.

"Bill…Bill…he…" Sookie didn't miss the way his eyes darkened at the mention of her boyfriend. She placed her hands on the Viking's chest and pushed him away. "Bill pro-proposed to me."

His face fell, jaw tensing. Eric took a step away from her. He held her gaze with shielded eyes. Eric took another step away from her. _Compton won._Sookie felt repulsive. Why else would he recoil from her? Her breaths came in strong gulps, the alternative to breaking down and crying on the spot. She cast her eyes downward then lost her composure. Tears cascaded from her eyes like miniature waterfalls. The little voice in her head screamed that Bill was dead. Sookie shook from the force of her tears and was soon sobbing. She began to slide down to the floor but was unceremoniously lifted.

Somewhere back in reality, Sookie felt Eric's cool arms slip around her body. She felt the smooth leather of his jacket brush against her skin. What scared her most was that she didn't care. The telepath buried her face in his shoulder and cried for what seemed like hours. Eric drew small circles on her back and offered stale comforts. What more could he do? He held her, unhappily deciding that the only way to raise Sookie's spirits would be to find Bill Compton. _The fucker just_had_to go and get himself kidnapped._"I will find him."

"W-what?" She lifted her head and stared up at the vampire, speaking through her sobs. Sookie thought she must be hearing things. "Did you say that…"

Eric looked her in the eye. "I will find Bill Compton if it makes you happy," the Viking said in all seriousness. With the blood bond, he experienced all of Sookie's emotions. It would make Eric happy too. He let go of Sookie and watched as she got off him. When she had started her sobbing, Eric lay down on the couch and placed her on his chest. Without Bill, he would fancy to have her in that position more often, preferably with less clothing. He rolled his eyes. Eric now made a promise he would be forced to fulfill. Scowling, the vampire twisted to look at the door. He could feel Godric outside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning to all of ye who have clicked: Wall of text and plotnapping. What do I own? Nuttin'. **

After all that happened to her, Sookie still the prospect of entertaining two beings older than America slightly worrisome. She had no heavenly clue what to feed them, aside from her own neck. And that was one thing the telepath wasn't quite ready to offer. Sookie had risked her neck for them once before. In Dallas. During the trip from hell. Before Eric had played her for a fool. Her brother surely did not have True Blood in his fridge, though she would check. Jason really had no reason to stock the house with vampire chow…_especially after that Fellowship fiasco. _Sookie cringed inwardly. If her brother wasn't so stupid, she would be concerned at the cult's recruitment powers. Then again, those crackers had their own suicide bombers…She silently thanked God for Jason's safety. Even though the Big Guy was exhibiting quite the twisted sense of humor, Sookie wanted her bases covered.

When she opened the fridge door, Sookie thanked the Big Guy again. Somehow, somewhere, He was watching over her. That was the only way there would be True Blood in Jason's refrigerator. After looking at the cardboard packaging with a grimace, Sookie contemplated her feelings for the two vampires in her parents' sitting room. The containers were covered in a red and white substance that could only be described as goop. Was it truly worth it? She took a deep breath and stepped back. After Godric saved her from…_yes_, it was worth it. "Godric, Eric, would you like a True Blood," she called from the kitchen, careful to keep her voice at a level that wouldn't rouse Jason from his slumber.

"Thank you, but no," Godric responded politely.

Sookie could hear Eric quarrel mutedly with him. "Eric?"

"I have already fed tonight, but thank you."

She'd be lying if Sookie said she wasn't pleased. Face contorting one last time at the terror in Jason's refrigerator, she closed the door. That was a discussion for a later date. With the bottoms of her pajama pants thudding quietly against the wood floor, Sookie reentered the living room. Eric was splayed across the couch, elbow perched on the armrest, and his jaw resting in his hand. Godric, eerily still, sat in the armchair with his hands folded.

"Would you please sit down, Miss Stackhouse? We have much to discuss."

Not about to defy the request of Eric's maker, Sookie glanced around the room for a seat. She certainly couldn't sit on Godric's lap…not that the idea appealed to her… As Sookie walked by Eric, she could feel his eyes boring into her back. The telepath made her mind to sit on the coffee table. An ocean wasn't enough space between Eric and herself at the moment. Sookie sat down and tried to look as dignified as possible. It was a losing battle. She didn't miss the way Godric turned his eyes to Eric, giving his child a smirk that never reached his lips. Sookie let her mind drift for a second. Sure, she looked silly sitting on the table but was that really enough for Godric to find amusement? _They did say vampires had very acute heari-_"Oh my," Sookie drawled, holding her head in her hands. _He must've heard lips and gaps and..._ The telepath, face shielded from Godric by her palm, glared up at Eric. He couldn't have seemed any happier. Ignoring his impish grin, Sookie mouthed a quick 'we'll talk about this later' before turning back to Godric.

The vampire pushed his vicarious pleasure for the situation into the back of his mind. He managed to sense the waves of embarrassment rolling of Sookie's body. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine." She leaned back, plastered a smile on her face, and resolved to never let her gaze shift to Eric. When Godric looked unconvinced, she repeated herself with a forced laugh. "Really, Godric," Sookie added for support.

He searched her face for a moment before starting to speak. "As you know, Bill Compton was abducted last night." Sookie nodded and Eric shifted in his seat. "In connection, or so it seems to us, werewolves were identified in the area surrounding Bon Temps."

"Eric told me already, but thank you."

Godric's gaze flickered to Eric. "It is highly unlikely that the creatures have abducted him for their own purposes."

Sookie glared at the vampire on her brother's couch. She vividly remembered how he told her that Bill was were-dinner. Taking a deep breath, Sookie turned her attention back to Godric. He seemed intelligible enough in his reasoning just because he was, well…Godric. In spite of this, she would be forced to do him bodily harm if he did not stop looking so delighted with his child's misdeeds. Sookie didn't know how the hell to hurt a two thousand year old relic like Eric's maker but she would find a way. The telepath had to find Bill before she made any plans.

"It seems that Mr. Compton has quite a few enemies. We will have to look into every possibility. Whoever abducted him used the employ of werewolves to cover their trail."

"You mean Lorena?"

He nodded. "I may. The bond between a vampire and his creator is very complex." Godric twisted his neck to Eric. The movement of such a still form disconcerted Sookie. That was also about the time when Eric stopped listening.

Godric was safe, Sookie was safe, Fangtasia was safe, and unlife was good for a certain Viking. Sookie was mad at him but then again she always was, so Eric wasn't going to let it get to him. He had kissed her. And comforted her. Since the latter went under the vulnerability category, Eric chose to forget about it. Another thing he discarded in the same way was how he started connecting things to Sookie. After Pam forced him to watch _Gone with the_…Eric thought…_the Storm? _He didn't know. After Pam pressured him into three hours of a wailing Southern belle and her irritating tendencies, he made a rather startling self discovery. Sookie was like his Ashley, though he didn't have a Rhett to fall back on and Sookie wasn't a man. Eric begrudgingly admitted that Sookie's attractiveness stemmed from more than just her unavailability. He had always loved a challenge, and the Stackhouse girl was a fighting, kicking, screaming, stubborn challenge. Just like Eric was. His suspicions of Sookie's supernatural qualities made the girl stand out from anything he had known.

For the first time in a long time, Eric was stumped. For the length in which Sookie remained a weakness, he would have to stay away from her. And finding Bill was the perfect excuse. If the mere idea of it didn't make Godric's temper flare, Eric wanted to put his maker between Sookie and himself. It would give the elder something to do and maybe build his reputation in the area. Eric scoffed at his own idea. _Godric's reputation did not need building. _A vampire like Godric deserved a political position and maybe the Compton situation could win the ancient one. _As long as he doesn't think_, Eric concluded inwardly, because a thinking Godric is an unhappy Godric.

"We have hired protection for you, child, since we are unable to look after you in the day."

Eric lifted his head, glancing at Sookie. He knew she would not be pleased by this. Unsurprisingly, Sookie's lips twitched and she sat up a bit straighter. "I really don't think that's necessary, but I appreciate it."

"I am indebted to you enough already. You will accept this," Eric said firmly. Without warning, the Viking fixed his gaze on the wall, focusing on something not in the room. Wordlessly, he rose and stood next to Godric. He hovered over his small maker in an almost comically protective fashion. Seeming unimpressed, the protected spoke next.

"Your guard is named Alcide Herveaux. He is werewolf," Godric said, not paying heed to Eric's movement. "Mr. Herveaux is an exemplary member of his species and is to be trusted." Eric snorted and was treated to a piercing glare from the older vampire. "You may come in now, Alcide."

Sookie was not aware werewolves were led-footed. Alcide's heavy footfalls echoed off the porch. When he came into view, the telepath wondered why fate continually tempted her. The werewolf was gorgeous- dressed like a lumberjack, but gorgeous- in a plaid shirt and black denim pants. He was all muscle and tan and tight clothing. Alcide's height nearly rivaled Eric's. Sookie blinked and focused on his mind. _Nothing. _

"Mr. Herveaux will look after you under the pretense of restoring your home."

The werewolf looked at Godric before the vampire nodded his head. Alcide took a step forward. "Sookie Stackhouse? Pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand to her.

"Same. I've heard a lotta good things about you, Mr. Herveaux." Upon contact, Sookie could hear his thoughts.

'_Fuckin' lie but thanks for the consideration.' _The handshake ended and the werewolf addressed Sookie. "Have you? And please, call me Alcide."

"Okay," she smiled, "if you say so. You can call me Sookie, too."

"Alright, Sookie. I'll just be down the road if you need anything." His voice became more somber. "Or if anything happens."

"I am glad the two of you have made such a pleasant acquaintance." All eyes turned to Godric. "Thank you, Alcide. You are dismissed."

Sookie couldn't help but think Godric looked more like a curious little boy than a two thousand year old vampire. He seemed fascinated by the creature, eyes never having left it since it entered. She was stolen from her thoughts as Alcide politely made his farewell. He respectfully nodded at Godric. As the werewolf passed Eric, his eyes flashed to meet the Viking's. Out of embarrassment, Sookie stared at her feet. Godric, if possible, stiffened in his armchair. After what seemed like an eternity to all parties not Eric or Alcide, Godric intervened. "I said you were dismissed, Mr. Herveaux."

This time, Alcide walked out. The eldest of the room sent his child a warning glance. His eyes burned in a way that made Sookie's skin crawl even though she was not on the receiving end. "I will not have you disrespect him in my presence. He has served us well."

"He has served us well? You cannot be serious."

"I am. And you will take my orders as if I am." Godric's voice lost its edge. "May I have a moment alone with Miss Stackhouse?"

"Of course," Eric answered, tone dripping with irritation. Unfolding his arms from across his chest, he walked out the room. The screen door squeaked open and the Viking was outside. A few minutes passed where Sookie did not dare speak and Godric stared at the floor, concentrating on his senses.

"Do not make me repeat myself, child."

More time passed before something akin to a smile danced at the edges of Godric's lips. "He is gone now, back to Fangtasia probably." Sookie found herself unable to keep a straight face when Godric offered her a tired smile. He lightly raised his eyebrows. "He can be a handful at times."

"I can understand that," she said laughing.

"But Eric is a good child. The best a maker can hope for." The vampire let his arms rest at his sides, the fabric of his white sweater creasing at his elbows. "May I ask you something, Miss Stackhouse?"

Sookie rose from the table and sat where Eric had been. "Anything, Godric. And please, call me Sookie."

"Are you truly alright?"

She felt her stomach drop.

* * *

If Hugo ever got out of this flatland, he'd never complain about claustrophobia again. At the moment, that was one big if. He was screwed. It all started when he got involved with Isabel. Hugo should've listened to his mother. She just wanted him to settle down with a nice girl and give her lots of grandchildren. That was much simpler than what his life was now. He ran so hard he could taste blood in the back of his throat. No matter which way he looked at it, it was very bad sign. Coupled with the way his limbs felt like jelly, Hugo knew he was done for. His mother would've accepted dentistry if he couldn't get into medical school. Instead, Hugo had to run off with a vampire.

This was a mortal sin in the eyes of Linda Ayres.

Hugo had bigger problems, most notably the hulking creature bounding towards him. Though he was no tactician, Hugo knew enough to be worried by flat terrain. There was nowhere to hide, not that the creature wouldn't be able to find him if there _was _some place to hide. It would be for comfort alone if there was a tree, or a rock, or _one goddamn thing_ he could find shelter from. Every turn he made, everywhere he went, Hugo was visible to the creature. There was no doubt in his mind that his eventual death by this thing would have something to do with the vampires. It wouldn't surprise him if it was Stan in some warped vampire form. He could hope, couldn't he?

Running as fast he could push himself, Hugo risked a glance behind him. The creature was the size of a refrigerator and had a tail, light fur, and a jaw that could snap Hugo in two. As his attention was behind him, a thorn vine, a black, sharp, tangled wretch of a thing was in front of him. His foot caught in the vine and he was sent flying across the flatland. He landed with a loud thud and a painful crack. Isabel's human grabbed at his wrist, writhing, swearing, and kicking on the ground. In his thrashing, Hugo worked up a large cloud of dust around him.

"I'm done," he panted, "I'm done. You win. Just finish me off." Through the darkness and the dust, Hugo risked a glance at this assailant. He wanted to see the thing that chased him, tortured him, killed him. It was then Hugo realized that it was more a him than an it.

Doubled over and panting himself, Hugo's attacker looked down at the human. His long incisors, much too long to be natural, glinted in the moonlight. What disturbed Hugo most was that the man was as naked as the day he was born. His body was covered in dirt his and face obscured by the dust. As Hugo recoiled from the sight, the man simply watched him. "Run," he commanded.

And Hugo obeyed. He pushed himself off the ground with his good wrist and not taking a look back, ran in the only direction he knew: forward. His adrenaline kicked in as a new sound reached Hugo's ears. A feral growl drowned out the wildlife of the flatland.

* * *

Sookie felt her stomach drop.

Was she truly alright?

Was the sky blue? Of course she wasn't alright. "I mean I'm holdin' up but…" Sookie sat up a little and hugged herself. "I'm doin' as well as can be expected."

"I admire your honesty." Godric held Sookie's gaze. His body was perfectly still as he searched for the words to say. "I admire your brother's virtue, Miss Stackhouse. Is it 'Jason'?"

"Yes, Jason." She laughed out loud at the idea of her brother and virtue in the same sentence. "I don't think you'd call my brother virtuous if you ever got to know him."

He snorted. "His actions at the Institute were very brave. You have to give him that if nothing else."

Sookie agreed, nodding at Godric and feeling contented as a smile settled on to the vampire's face. Everything about Godric was comforting. His smile, a rare treat as Sookie discovered, instantly put at ease. He controlled the room with his tranquility and carefully chosen wordings. Oddly, it didn't surprise Sookie that Godric was two thousand years old. She didn't know if it was her acclimation to the vampires she had surrounded herself with or the way Godric possessed an answer to everything. The supernatural's sagacity nearly rivaled Gran's- a big compliment for Sookie to bestow upon another. She was beginning to understand why Eric was so deeply loyal to his maker. Though he claimed to have committed grievous sins, and Sookie didn't doubt this, she could see a little light in him. Just like she could see a little light in Bill. Sookie raised her clenched fist to her mouth. _Everything has to relate back to him, doesn't it? _For the second time that night, Sookie brought her knees to her chest. The silence which seeped into the room moments before suddenly turned awkward. She shouldn't be in this room with Godric, she thought. _I should be in this room with Bill. _Sookie tentatively raised her eyes to Godric. He seemed just as lost in his own musings. Almost as if he felt her watching, the vampire's gaze shifted from the wall up to Sookie's face.

"Can you hear my thoughts," he said listlessly.

"No." Sookie shook her head. "Vampires are like big, blank voids to me. Whenever one of you comes near me, I can only hear silence."

Godric almost smiled then, a virtually imperceptible curve of his lips. "Eric was right."

"Huh?"

"You should be weary of Alcide."

It was hard to keep Sookie Stackhouse from an underdog. Her very instinct to comfort, protect, and understand may very well have been what had drawn her to Bill that night at Merlotte's. She wanted to make her own opinion of the werewolf and his peers before she judged him. "Why should I be weary of him?"

"His kind is vicious," Godric replied. He leaned forward in the chair, making a show of his emotions. "They have been flies on our skin for as long as I can remember, Miss Stackhouse. It is worse enough that you have become involved with _us. _I will not have you being mixed with _them. _I always thought you were much too good for your association with vampires. These feelings are multiplied tenfold with werewolves." In the amount of time it took Godric's stillness to retreat, it reappeared with staggering amounts of self control. Sookie blinked once and Godric was standing in front of her. "You are valuable to us, Sookie. Your gift is unique and powerful. Though Alcide is indebted to the Magister and to myself and my child, he could still try to harm you."

"What did he do to become 'indebted' to you," Sookie asked slowly, carefully.

"We will not speak of it now." The old grandfather clock struck two. It chimed out its wooden song before Godric articulated again. "It is best that I leave you." His eyes looked thoughtful for a second. "I don't think I ever truly thanked you for saving me."

She smiled. "I was only repaying the favor."

"Despite how thankful I am, Eric is much more grateful. I was foolish. I will not attempt such a thing again." There was a pause. "Goodnight, Sookie."

Before she could reply, Godric used his speed to appear centimeters from her face. He kissed her on the cheek, too close to her mouth to be considered pure, and was gone in a flash. Sookie remained sitting on the couch in slight shock. Rising, she chuckled to herself and raised a hand to her face. What more could possibly happen before she reached her bed?

* * *

Alarm clock, thunder, breakfast, first period: all things Jason Stackhouse could sleep through. He honestly wished 'vampires in his living room' fell under that category. But Gran always told him that you can't always have what you want. With an irritated sigh, he rolled out of bed and staggered to the door. The eldest Stackhouse began his trek down the hall, got seven steps towards his destination, and then went back to his bedroom for pants. He couldn't have any of those bloodsuckers taking a liking to his chiseled physique. Stomping down the stairs, Jason caught a glimpse of movement in the living room. He tensed. "Sook," he called into the darkness.

"What, Jason," his sister called back.

"You alright down there? You alone?"

"Yeah. They all left."

Jason proceeded to the living room but stopped at the door frame. "You wanna head up to bed?"

She nodded and like old times, the Stackhouses crawled upstairs. They exchanged a glance. All that was missing was Mom and Dad. Jason pulled his unexpecting sister into an embrace and rested his chin on her head. When his brotherly instincts subsided, Jason released her. He shrugged and continued up the stairs. The old wood creaked in protest as the siblings plodded over it. "Good night," Jason whispered.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite." Sookie pulled open the door to her childhood bedroom. It made her feel seven again to be back inside. She shut the door behind her and slid under the covers. The telepath didn't care what dreams came to her as long as they weren't about Eric. Sookie closed her eyes and cushioned her head with her hand. No double shift at Merlotte's could tire her like that night had.

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter: Isobel makes a call to Godric and Alcide meets Sam at Merlotte's. **


	3. Chapter 3

Merlotte's smelled…and it wasn't just the food.

Frankly, it was making Alcide sick. There was a lingering odor of vomit, stale sweat, cooking grease, and something vaguely reminiscent of a…_shifter_? The werewolf straightened and sniffed the air once more for confirmation. No, he wasn't smelling things; there was shifter in the bar. Alcide wearily glanced at his surroundings, noticed the absence of one particular telepath, and sighed. Sometimes he wished he was less of a gentleman. If Eric Northman and his keeper didn't scare him shitless, Alcide reckoned that he'd be sitting at home, dealing with the pack instead of going on a wild goose chase for Sookie Stackhouse. He would've tried the Compton place but since his relations with vampires were so swell at the moment, the werewolf decided against it. _The last thing I need is another angry vamp up my ass_, Alcide thought.

His eyes took one last sweep over the room he turned and made a beeline for the exit. If Alcide couldn't get to the telepath now, he would eventually. There was still a dilapidated mess of a house that needed to be fixed and a head that he would like to keep attached to his body. While he was envisioning himself as Northman's afternoon snack, a spirited "hey-a" floated to his ears. Alcide twisted around to see Arlene Fowler trotting in his direction.

"Can I get'cha somethin', dear?"

"Um…" The werewolf stood and thought for a second, fighting off the nauseating stench of the waitress's perfume. "Can you tell me where Sookie Stackhouse is?"

"She's not workin' tonight, toots. I can get'cha Sam though."

Alcide squinted. _Who the hell's Sam? _"Sure," he replied.

"Take a seat," Arlene patted a barstool, "I'll only be a second."

He watched her totter back to the kitchen, balancing an empty tray on her forearm. Alcide took a curious glance at the barstool that soon journeyed over to the man occupying the barstool's neighbor. Though he didn't fancy standing for all eternity, sitting next to a crazy-looking, casted, collared-shirted fellow didn't thrill Alcide. The werewolf was still weighing the pros and cons of the situation when the man acted first. He turned from the counter and his drink to glower at Alcide. "Why are you in town," the man demanded, not asked.

"I was hired to fix up the Stackhouse place." Inwardly sighing, Alcide gripped the counter for balance and took a seat on the barstool. He twisted his neck to look for a bartender or any possible escape from his newfound friend and found none. _Shit. _"Why are _you_ in town?" If he couldn't get away from the man, he could turn the tables on him.

"Why am _I _in town, boy?" The man took a deep breath, chest puffing out like a rooster, and leaned back on his barstool. "I'm the law here in Bon Temps," he drawled, "and the name's Andy Bellefleur." The detective twisted awkwardly to offer Alcide the hand free of his cast.

He gave a small smile and accepted Andy's handshake. "Alcide Herveaux."

"Nice to meet'cha, Alcide." The man pounded his fist down on the bar, narrowly missing his mug of beer. He maneuvered the glass to his good hand and took a long sip. "How's the work comin'?"

"Good…good. Whatever the hell happened down there really did some damage." Alcide grimaced. "And not for nothin' but the place fuckin' reeks."

If the werewolf had been the observant sort, he would've noticed the way Bellefleur recoiled at the mention of the Stackhouse abode. "Strange stuff's been goin' on around here since that vampire, Compton, moved back in." Andy took a lengthy swig of his beer. He sloshed the liquid around his mouth, searching for the words to complete his thought. "You can never trust those types…always bringin' trouble wherever they go."

Alcide felt himself bristle at the detective's words. _What the hell 'types' is he talkin' about? _"What do you mean," he said politely, eyes roving around the bar, trying to hide his aggravated interest from Andy. To Alcide, werewolves and vampires were two totally different species. He and his own were on the opposite end of the spectrum when compared to bloodsuckers.

"Vamps, I suppose. A few weeks back, Arlene's fiancé lost it and went around killin' fangbangers."

"Oh," the werewolf replied dispassionately. "Does anyone work here?" He lifted his heels and peered down the bar into the hallway just before Sam's office. Alcide was starting to lose interest in his favor. There was nothing he wanted more than to bail from this hick establishment and go home…not that he should talk about being a hick…But all he needed to do was finish painting and the Stackhouse place would be as good as new. Alcide's hand unconsciously lowered to the weighty rectangle in his jacket pocket. _Sookie deserves this_, he told himself and settled back down.

"Sam should be out soon. He has nothing to do durin' the day. Just look at this place! Completely empty. Like a ghost town in the afternoon hours." Andy grinned. He wasn't losing his touch. A good detective could sense exactly when someone was coming towards them. He called this one. "Hey there, Sam. Alcide here's been waitin' to speak to ya." Andy rummaged through his pockets and loudly smacked a ten dollar bill onto the counter. "I'll see you later, Merlotte." Bellefleur had glorious, detective-like things to do which _definitely_ did not include a murder cover up.

"Bye, Andy." Sam procured a washcloth from underneath the counter and wiped up the nonexistent grime from Andy's visit. "I'm real sorry to keep you waiting. One of my waitresses came down with something horrible and is taking a lie-down in my office. I just needed to make sure she was okay, you know?" It suddenly occurred to Sam that he was babbling. He hated to drive away a customer, even one that would most likely not be a returning customer. As he thought this, it also occurred to Sam that the customer was snarling at him. "Um, Sam Merlotte, how can I help you?"

Alcide snapped out of his shifter-induced temper long enough to introduce himself. He cordially accepted Sam's apology and then started to explain his visit. "I understand that you employ Sookie Stackhouse?"

Sam gulped. He didn't need another psychopath stalking Sookie. "Yep, Sookie's a waitress."

"She hired me to fix her house and I found somethin' that she might find interesting." Alcide removed a leather-bound journal from his pocket and carefully laid it on the counter. "It was underneath one of the floorboards."

Enthralled by the little brown book, Sam picked it up and flipped through the pages. They were yellowed and torn at the edges, but all covered in handwritten scribbles. "Weird," he said, setting the book back on the bar.

"I know. I couldn't find Sookie so I figured I'd just give it to you to give to her?"

"No problem. She'll be in tonight."

The werewolf removed himself from his perch on the barstool. "Thanks. And can you tell her the house just needs some paint?"

"Of course, don't worry about it." Sam grabbed Andy's mug and threw the washcloth back under the counter. "I'll see you around." The shifter brought his glassware into the kitchen, leaving Alcide standing in the middle of the bar.

_Alone_. Alcide frowned and sniffed at the air around him. _Yes_, Merlotte was definitely the shifter he smelled earlier. _Eww_, the werewolf concluded and stepped towards the exit. He would never let one of those filthy creatures make his dinner. As Alcide's fingers gripped the door handle, a smell hit him like a brick wall. A likeness of dirt, moonlight, and rotting leaves filled the supernatural's lungs. He slowly turned around, searching for the source. His eyes settled on a corner of the bar formerly hidden by his angle. Alcide was one hundred percent certain that the scent came from _those two. _The werewolf trained his eyes on the pair. They were large, rugged men who seemed terribly out of place in their little booth. Before he could finish his assessment, the one facing him treated Alcide to a glare. A son of an alpha, the werewolf wasn't going to back down easily. He returned the scowl.

And as soon as he did, the man's counterpart joined the party. Slim and bearded, he made a show of turning and resting his elbow on the division between booths. Alcide debated the worth of a confrontation. These men were in his father's territory without authorization. They looked able of killing him. The two weren't showing Alcide any respect. _They looked able of killing him_.

"Here ya go, boys."

Alcide let out a sigh of relief and walked out the door as Arlene placed rare steaks in front of the men. They broke eye contact first.

* * *

If the phone rang three times, Sookie wouldn't bother getting out of bed. Four rings and she would run downstairs and answer. One ring reverberated through the room, then two, then three. The telepath swore and threw the covers to the other side of her bed. If she could make it down the stairs before the call went to voicemail, Sookie would be proud of herself. No sleep coupled with irregular eating patterns made her sprint to the phone more like a half-hearted jog. Once she reached the landing of her staircase, the fourth ring finished blaring. _Crap. _Sookie skidded into the kitchen, nearly slipping because of her socks, and found the phone. She stared at it for a second, prayed it was Bill, and pressed the 'talk' button. "Hello?"

"Miss Stackhouse? I trust you are free tonight."

Sookie groaned. She would much rather have her caller be Bill, Sam, Jason, Tara, Santa, anyone but Eric. On second thought, the butterflies in her stomach were very pleased about Eric calling her. "Why," the telepath asked uneasily.

"There is news about Compton. Forty minutes. Fangtasia."

The phone clicked and the dial tone squirmed its way back up through the wire. Sookie took a deep breath and sunk down onto a kitchen chair. He couldn't make it easy for her, could he? She forced herself up, feet unhappily stomping back to her bedroom. The drive to Shreveport was twenty, thirty minutes by itself. Being bothered to put on clothes could take a millennium. Sookie angrily opened the drawer of her bureau. She selected a blue dress with spaghetti straps and gold flats. In her mind, it wasn't appropriate Eric-wear but really, what was? Unless she was in some Chanel get-up, complete with killer cleavage and towering pumps, Sookie would always feel underdressed next to Eric. She risked a glance at the mirror. _Well_, she thought, _at least the dark circles have faded. _

On her way out the door, Sookie snatched a raincoat. The weather report said rain later. Her drive to Shreveport was uneventful, all trees and back roads and rain. When she pulled up in front of Fangtasia, she shrugged on her raincoat. It didn't seem like the monsoon would stop for her, no matter how hard she wished to look presentable for Eric. Frowning, Sookie fiddled with the door handle and finally freed herself from the little yellow deathtrap. The street was empty. Walking to the entrance of Fangtasia, the telepath noted the conspicuous absence of Pam. _Maybe that's a good thing_. She went inside to find the club harrowingly empty. "Ginger?"

Sookie peeled her raincoat off her wet body. "Ginger, you here?"

There was no answer.

She treaded carefully through the vacant, dimly-lit room until she came to the back of the club. _I'm not doin' this for me. I'm doin' this for Bill. _Sookie took that thought and ran with it, reminding herself that she had a _fiancé_ and Eric was a horrible being. The telepath let her shields down and felt the presence of a single vampire. She honestly hoped it was Eric and not something that wanted her dead. Tiptoeing towards his office, Sookie could hear rustling papers and a phone receiver being slammed. _Uh oh_, she thought. Whatever the vampire called her for, it couldn't be good. Weary of Eric's current state, Sookie rapped her knuckles across the open office door.

"What," the Viking hissed.

_If he wants it that way…._ "You called me?" She stepped into the small room, folding her arms over her chest.

"You kept me waiting." Eric looked down the sea of papers on his desk. He picked one up, scanned it, put it down, and pulled up the sleeves of his black shirt. Examining what looked to be a bill, the vampire appeared more interested in the sheet than in Sookie. "I said forty minutes."

The telepath tucked a dripping strand of hair behind her ear. "You say a lot of things." She huffed when her comment went unacknowledged. _The nerve. _As she contemplated how to ask why he dragged her out here in the middle of a storm, a raindrop fell from the hem of her dress. Eric's gaze snapped to the spot where the water hit the floor. "I'm glad I finally got your attention." He promptly eyed the paper once more. "Eric!"

The vampire said nothing, only turning the sheet to face Sookie.

She was less than pleased. "I don't_ care_ how many t-shirts you have to order. Just tell me why I'm here."

"This isn't about t-shirts, Sookie. This is from the King of Mississippi. He is informing me that Bill Compton is now residing in his area."

"And?" Sookie adjusted her hold on her sopping raincoat and placed a hand on her hip.

Eric blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I don't care about Bill, Eric."

"He left you. You don't care?" He leaned backwards in his chair, eyes glinting with intrigue.

Sookie gave the vampire a lopsided smile. "Nope." She thought for a second and sneered at the Viking before her. "I don't love Bill anymore. I love _you._"

Faster than a flash of lightning, Eric stood mere centimeters from her face. Gasping quietly at the suddenness of it all, Sookie allowed herself to be wrapped in the vampire's solid arms. _I don't love Bill anymore? __Whose words were those? _She resisted the temptation to bring her hand to her lips to see if they truly belonged to her.A welcome distraction came when Eric's head lowered to the crook of her neck, taking in the telepath's extraordinary scent. Slowly, she raised her arms and rested them on Eric's shoulders, her hands intertwining behind his neck. Sookie stilled, letting the closeness and intimacy of the moment wash over her. This was a moment where Eric proved to be something more than the cold, manipulative _monster _he seemed ninety percent of the time. And Sookie liked it. His hands lowered to the small of her back and she pulled back. To have control of the situation was to have control over the world. She felt Eric remove himself from her shoulder, and the cold emptiness that settled in the space made her rethink her action.

_Finally alone with Eric, and I have to eff it up. _The telepath tilted her form away from Eric until she could see his face. Sookie didn't dwell on the features, the image of him already burned in her mind, as perfect and striking as always. Instead, she took the direct route, softly pressing her lips against his. For a time, neither moved. Sookie enjoyed it, savored it, putting an end to the waiting and self-denial. Bill had told her it was just the blood. Sookie never had such strong feelings for Bill, even when he healed her after the Rattray incident. She parted her lips, trying her damnedest not to let them twist into a smile, and almost lost her battle when the Viking's mouth parted. The kiss grew heated and more heated until Sookie's fingers floated to touch the side of Eric's face. She cracked an eye open, abruptly self-aware, to discover that Eric was having just as much fun as her. His eyes were still closed.

Sookie couldn't help but smile. Here she was, a waitress and self-imposed outcast, stealing a smooch from a thousand year old vampire sheriff. If Dawn Green could see her now... Only after she broke out into a full-on grin did Sookie scold herself for thinking ill of the dead. Come to find out, the vampire didn't take to kindly to grins during trysts. He roughly lifted her to straddle his middle and slammed her down on his desk. "Mine," the vampire hissed. Eric took control of both the embrace and the kiss, thrusting his tongue in her mouth sliding his hands under the bottom of her skirt. He tasted her and turned the kiss into a domineering clash of teeth and less of a brush of the lips. The very thought of Eric entering her, _exploring her _made Sookie moan into the vampire's mouth. _So much for control_. Prickles of excitement dusted on her skin as his grip on her lower thigh slid higher and higher. She felt cold before the telepath realized her panties had been deftly removed.

But since this was Sookie Stackhouse, she wasn't going down without a fight.

Her hands snaked from Eric's chest to his waistband. She groaned in frustration when the Viking's fly wouldn't unzipper. It was like some strange, ironic version of a chastity belt. Mercifully, it came loose after a few gentle tugs. Sookie grasped him and stroked the sensitive flesh. By a quick estimation, she concluded that he was _much _larger than Bill. Her venture into the elements would be worth the trouble. As Sookie worked her hand over him, she pulled her mind from the gutter long enough to wonder why she didn't do exactly this in Hotel Carmilla. Eric's teeth nipped teasingly at the side of her neck and soon after a familiar click signaled the descent of his fangs. The points dug into her neck and it…hurt. It hurt more than she ever expected. Sookie pulled back but not before vengefully squeezing the hand in Eric's jeans. The pain in her neck didn't cease regardless of the fact her skin was free of fangs. She pressed her fingers into the crook of her neck and ran them over something plastic.

Sookie frowned and opened her eyes. She was in Bill's bed. The telepath could've screamed. _She was in Bill's bed dreaming of Eric! _

The object between her fingers was a price tag on one of her fiancé's pillowcases. "Sweet Savior!" Sookie tore herself from the mass of covers and tramped down the hall. Not only was she having wet dream of a man she hated, she was fifteen minutes late for work.

* * *

Sorry, sorry, this was a couple days late and I didn't include Isobel's call to Godric. I'm praying my Alcide isn't too far from the canon and I'm slacking…I was in the mood for some Eric/Sookie. I didn't think anyone would mind ;) So, my lovely readers, that was my first smut. Tell me whatcha think? Reviews make me work faster! I'll try to update again before I go on vacation. Thanks for reading, everybody!


End file.
